


I Find Shelter (In This Way, Under Cover, Hide Away)

by writenow753



Category: GOT7
Genre: (considering a minor is involved), 2jae romance is subtle and a slow-build, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Child Abuse, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Homophobia, Im Jaebum | JB-centric, M/M, Step-siblings, Underage Prostitution, Underage Sex, Youngjae and Jaebum are step-siblings, domestic abuse, please pay attention to the tags, they are not blood related, this is a 2jae story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 04:25:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10936962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writenow753/pseuds/writenow753
Summary: Within this pitch black darkness, you shine so brightly.*He knows well that the world outside is harsh, that it’s ready at a moment’s notice to knock him down over and over until he feels beaten and disheartened.  He knows how easy it could be to become mean, hardened just like his father.  But none of that remotely matters, not when it’s Youngjae’s smile that can vanquish even the darkest corners of his worst days and make him believe in impossible things.





	I Find Shelter (In This Way, Under Cover, Hide Away)

**Author's Note:**

> Despite being in the middle of something else, this demanded to be written in no uncertain terms. I haven’t written or posted in five months, so I guess this is one way to make a comeback. (Not the kind I was expecting tbh.)
> 
> *
> 
> While nothing is extremely explicit or graphic, this fic contains mentions and scenes of: domestic abuse, child abuse, alcohol and drug usage, underage sex, prostitution, dubious consent (considering a minor is involved), homophobia.
> 
> And because that’s not enough to digest, there’s one last thing. This is a 2jae story. Jaebum and Youngjae are step-siblings, they are not related by blood. They do grow up together (not until Jaebum is 8 and Youngjae is 5), but it’s far from a traditional, family way. However if this bothers you and you feel that for you it’s too close to incest I understand. 
> 
> *
> 
> Now for everyone else, if you’re still with me after all that (few there may be), while the content of much of this fic is dark, it’s more than that. Or at least I hope it is.

He meets Youngjae for the first time when he is eight years old.

*

His father comes home after having disappeared for three weeks around the New Year. (Jaebum celebrates his birthday alone and cold. He doesn’t cry, it’s not that different from previous years.)

The only reason he doesn’t starve is thanks to the school mandated lunch program and the resourcefulness of his just-turned-eight mind, which includes volunteering to clean the chalkboards during recess time. It’s something he knows will earn him the nickname of teacher’s pet (he could care less) and more importantly, an apple juice and cookie from his teacher, Miss Heidi, which he would then tuck carefully into his backpack to save for later.

His father comes in, door slung wide open, yelling loud enough to wake the neighbors if the neighbors cared about stuff like that. (They don’t. They live in a trailer park in a sketchy part of town.)

“Jaebum, get your ass in here! I got someone for you to meet.”

He’d been sleeping. He had started going to bed earlier and earlier, because he learned if he slept, it was easier to ignore the stabbing hunger pains that kept getting louder and louder until eventually he was certain they’d grow teeth and gnaw straight through his stomach. But hearing his father’s voice is the same as a bucket of ice water being dumped on him, and he shoots awake and scrambles out of his bedroom, almost tripping in his haste. He knows better than to make him wait.

There’s a woman standing next to his father. With painted red lips and brassy blonde hair bought straight from a box, she wears a crop top much too small for her to comfortably fit into and jeans that look painted on. When she sees him enter, she flashes a smile much too bright to be sincere and coos, “I’m your new mama,” showing off her left hand where a sparkling ring sits.

He doesn’t know what to say to that.

“Don’t be rude, boy,” his father’s voice warns and he stands straighter.

“It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.” Somehow he manages to not stumble over his words.

“Ma’am?” She laughs and it sounds much too loud and shrill to his ears. “Did you hear that, Jaehyun? Isn’t that just the cutest thing?” Her attention shifts back to Jaebum. “I’m not old enough to be called ma’am. Call me mom. I’m sure we’re going to be real close, like friends even.”

At eight, he’s learned well when not to believe what adults say. He nods though, and she and more importantly his father seem satisfied for the moment.

His dad holds up a bottle of champagne. Cheap, he’s sure. Not that he knows brands or anything like that, he just knows what they can afford and it’s not much. “Now your new mom and I are going to have a little fun and do a little celebratin’ so don’t bother us. And take care of the brat, why don’t you?”

He watches the two of them walk away and that’s when he finally notices the little boy peeking out from behind the bookcase (filled with bottles of booze, not books) where he’d been hiding.

The boy is young, and he is frightened.

He takes two steps forward, and the little boy cowers further back. The reaction stops Jaebum in his tracks. He’s not sure what to do next, before finally deciding the best course is to do nothing. Kneeling on the carpet, he smiles and waves hi. “My name is Jaebum. I just turned eight.”

He keeps his voice soft and his gestures small, realizing belatedly that his father had probably scared him. The thought brings a frown to his face, but seeing that the boy is still staring intently at him and not wanting him to think he’s angry with him, he smiles again.

“Are you hungry?”

The boy shakes his head no, and he’s relieved. It’s not like he has anything here to offer him.

“How old are you?”

The boy holds up one hand, all five of his little fingers spread out, as he takes a cautious step forward. It’s a small step but Jaebum can see him better now that he’s standing in the light. He has a bowl-cut hairstyle and his cheeks are still chubby with baby fat.

The combination of the two along with his shyness makes Jaebum think he’s cute.

“Can you tell me your name?” A silent beat. “Please?” he cajoles.

The little boy speaks so quietly Jaebum only catches the last syllable. “It’s what-jae?”

“Youngjae.”

“Ah, Youngjae.” The name suits him well. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve never been a big brother before, but I guess it’s kind of like being a friend?” He doesn’t have much experience being that either, but he figures he can learn. “I promise to try and be the best one I can for you. Okay?”

He extends his hand and holds his breath in hope, waiting to see if Youngjae will believe in him.

Youngjae stands still and watches him carefully.

A full minute passes, and another, and finally he lets his hand drop and his head hang. Disappointment is like an old friend. It’s when he’s about to stand again, he sees a pair of tiny feet stop in front of him and an equally tiny hand that reaches down to take his hand.

He looks up at Youngjae and smiles.

*

Jaebum has little recollection of his mother. She died when he was three. He has a single photograph of her, one that he keeps hidden away underneath his mattress. His father had burned all the pictures of her and given away her clothes after she passed, and it was only by luck he found the photo later where it’d fallen forgotten behind a dresser drawer.

He shows his most treasured possession to Youngjae one night.

“Pretty,” the younger boy declares and he nods agreeing.

He doesn’t remember his mother very well, but at night, he dreams he can still hear her singing a lullaby to him or that he can smell the floral scent of her perfume from when she held him close to her chest and danced around their tiny kitchen. Maybe none of that happened, and maybe it’s his brain filling in details he desperately wanted to be true. But at least he can hold onto that dream for a little while, that if his mother were alive she’d be the kind to help him with his homework, she’d let him stir the brownie mix together and not mind if he made a mess, and she’d always kiss him goodnight.

Youngjae isn’t that lucky.

Youngjae’s mother, much like Jaebum’s father, is a parent in DNA only. He’s certain there is not a single maternal bone in her body.

He’s the one who makes sure Youngjae is fed and bathed. He helps dress him for school in the morning (he really only needs help with tying his shoelaces) and makes sure his teeth are properly brushed. He reads him a bedtime story (Jaebum takes to checking out children books from the school library) and tucks him into bed at night.

He’s the one who calms him down when he has nightmares and checks under his bed and in the closet to chase away any monsters who lurk.

And two months into happily wedded bliss, when the fighting starts, he’s the one who lets Youngjae climb out of his bed and crawl into his. The little boy burrows closer and _closer_ , as if he’s trying to block everything else out but the sound of Jaebum’s beating heart.

*

Jaebum learns his father met Seoyoung at a casino where she was part of the entertainment. He doesn’t have to ask what type of entertainment.

Gambling is another vice they have in common.

Jaebum finds he doesn’t mind his dad’s frequent absences as much as he use to. He has Youngjae now, and when it’s just the two of them in the house, Youngjae smiles more readily. He’s still much too quiet but Jaebum is happy enough to fill in the silences. He makes up silly games and songs, whatever he can think of to make the younger boy laugh. The first time he heard Youngjae laugh, he couldn’t get the sound of it out of his head for the rest of the day, and he is determined to make it happen again.

On a particularly lucky night, Youngjae’s mother comes flying into their shared room, turning the lights on and waking them up noisily thanks to her inebriated state. She pulls Youngjae out of bed, squishing his cheeks together and pinching them hard.

He goes to stand by Youngjae then and shifts her attention away. “Did you have fun, mom?” He hates calling her that, but it’s expected.

She lets Youngjae go and he crawls further back onto his bed, back against the wall, hugging his knees to his chest. Seoyoung’s already forgotten her son as she claps manically, boasting they won it big this time. “We’ve got big dreams, Jaebum, just you wait and see. It’s all about to change, I can feel it in my bones. Everything’s coming up daisies!” she exclaims, not knowing that she gets the phrasing wrong.

Jaebum doesn’t bother to correct her.

His dad stumbles in next and Jaebum tries not to let any disgust show, as he wonders how they managed to make it home without wrecking. The cloyingly sweet scent of alcohol mixed with the stench of cigarettes is enough to make him gag.

“I was wonderin’ where you ran off to. Should’ve known you’d be here with the two brats.” His words are slurring together and he’s not quite steady on his feet as he reaches out for his wife. “Come on, sugar, let’s celebrate.” He smacks her ass and she guffaws loudly. She’s already got her top halfway off by the time they slam the door behind them.

It doesn’t take long for Youngjae to find his way into his bed.

*

They move around a lot.

His father lacks both the skill and desire to keep a steady job, always dreaming of something better and bigger that never comes. They stay a year or two at most in places, sometimes less than that, before moving on. Making friends at school is impossible because of it and because neither one of them wants to invite anyone to their house.

Jaebum is fine with it, accepts it, but he worries about Youngjae being lonely. When he tells him that one night, Youngjae laughs and calls him silly. “I’ve got you, Jaebum. You’re my best friend.” That night Jaebum goes to sleep with the biggest smile on his face.

Once they actually manage to live in a nice house. Nice for their standards anyway, since their previous residences included trailer parks, houses that look more like shacks, and rundown duplexes; all of them in equally bad parts of town. When he asks his dad how they can afford the place — seeing as how most of their money is spent on an endless supply of cheap cigarettes and booze, and not on things they actually need like decent food and clothes that fit — his dad tells him to shut up and be thankful.

Two months later, when they leave in the middle of the night with barely enough time to pack a suitcase, he can’t say that he’s surprised.

*

When he’s thirteen he makes the mistake of talking to a cop who comes to speak at his school for career day.

He misses a week’s worth of classes, and when he finally returns, he explains away the bruises and why he’s walking so funny: a bike accident, he fell down the stairs, a horse kicked him. Anything but the truth. No one wants, or cares, to hear it.

*

His father has always had a quick switch when it comes to drinking. He could be the happiest drunk in the world one second and the next, he could turn into the meanest drunk you’d ever met. Jaebum discovers Seoyoung is similar if only slightly less volatile.

When they’re drinking, much like when they’re sober, they’ll ignore the fact they have two children.

When things are good between the two of them, they care very little about being discreet with their sex life and where they have it. More than once, he’s had to cover Youngjae’s eyes and guide him to their bedroom. They can be loud though (loud and extremely vulgar) and it makes him wish they had a TV in their room or he had a cheap mp3 player. He tries his best to block out the sounds for the younger boy’s sake and distract him.

But when things go badly, it makes him wish that things were good again. The sounds of glass breaking, screaming accusations, loud thumps that can only be associated with a body hitting a wall followed by hysterical crying make his stomach tie into knots as he tries to soothe and comfort a shaking Youngjae.

*

The fighting and non-stop shouting matches seem to escalate as the liquor they drink take on a harder edge.

Tonight is a quiet night, but it’s a deviation from what’s quickly becoming the norm. He can’t sleep. Instead he lies awake, listening to the peaceful sound of Youngjae’s steady breathing, and he wonders how much longer it’ll be before his father turns his anger onto them.

It’s already happened to him a few times and that he can handle. But he can’t, he won’t, let Youngjae be hurt. He decided long ago that once he turned eighteen he wouldn’t leave Youngjae here alone, he would stay and wait until Youngjae finished school.

Now that decision starts to shift and change into what ifs and maybes. What if they left? Maybe they could run away together. But that requires money, money that he does not have.

*

His father has taken to calling him pretty boy the last couple of years but the way he says it assures Jaebum that it’s no compliment. Not with that sneer on his face or the blatant disgust in his eyes. He also tells him he has a big mouth on him, which makes Jaebum want to laugh at the absurdity of it because he can count on one hand the number of times he dared talk back to his father.

It doesn’t matter though, he decides he’ll make his father proud.

He starts showing up to school late or skipping out early. Youngjae doesn’t know, Youngjae will never know, what he does with men in abandoned alleys. In the back of a car. In an empty classroom.

Jaebum is only fifteen.

*

When he is sixteen, people start showing up at their house all hours of the day and night. It doesn’t take him long to figure out drugs are involved.

He takes to locking their bedroom door at night and keeping Youngjae nearby at all times. He doesn’t trust the look in a couple of the guys’ eyes, especially not when they’re looking in Youngjae’s direction.

It makes his decision to drop out of school that much easier. His grades are shit anyway, and his desire to make money quicker burns hot within him. He’s determined to get them away from the hell hole they’re forced to call home.

He lucks into a job at a local gym. He’s cleaning shit out of toilets and taking out trash. Grunt work. But he doesn’t care, he likes it for three reasons.

One, he gets paid under the table. It’s not a whole lot because the owner can smell his desperation, knows that he needs the job, but not much is still infinitely better than nothing.

Two, he has his own personal locker. Well, the owner’s a cheapskate and he has to pay (deducted from his already measly paycheck) to rent the locker on a weekly basis. A rip-off probably, but at least it’s far from home where prying hands can and have taken money from him.

The first time it happened had been the week before Youngjae’s thirteenth birthday and he’d been planning to surprise him with an electronic keyboard. It wasn’t new, he couldn’t afford that, but he found it at a pawn shop and it still looked nice. But when he went to get his money from where he’d hidden it, to count it again and make sure he had enough, the space was empty.

He had been furious when he went to confront his father, his eyes stinging with tears he refused to shed. His father just laughed in his face, claiming since he put a roof over his head and food on the table — he had wanted to retort, what kind of roof leaks when it comes a downpour, and food? you call ramyun and cans of spam a good meal? — he was entitled to whatever he saw as his fair right. Besides he continued, how did a pretty boy like him get that kind of money anyway? The smirk on his dad’s face made Jaebum’s skin crawl.

So he keeps the money in his locker with a combination lock and prays to a God he no longer believes in (and maybe never did) to keep it from being stolen.

Three, the gym isn’t the nicest, nor does it attract the most-upstanding clientele, but that ends up to his advantage. He finds a way to add to his meager paycheck, because it’s easy enough to find guys who want things their girlfriends (or wives) aren’t willing to give them. And there are those who are looking for things a little rougher, meaner. “The bitch doesn’t know how to please me,” they complain, already unzipping their pants and pushing him to his knees, “but I bet a pretty slut like you will know exactly what to do to get me off.”

*

It happens in the shower, after he just finished giving a guy a blowjob, when a gym regular stops him from exiting. “I enjoyed the show.” He’s naked, and one glance down and Jaebum sees he’s telling the truth. “Let me fuck you. How much do you want?”

He hasn’t gone that far before.

But if he closes his eyes, he can see Youngjae’s face in the morning, when he wakes him up for school. He’s almost impossible to wake up, preferring to snuggle in bed until the last possible second, but when he does wake up and his eyes adjust to the bright light Jaebum had turned on, he’ll look at Jaebum and smile and it makes Jaebum feel like he just won the lottery.

He makes a decision, names a price. The guy’s quiet for a few seconds and he worries that he already messed up, asked for too much, but then the guy nods.

“Not here though. I assume you’ll want payment first.”

“Of course.”

“I’ll have to go to the bank, don’t carry that kind of cash on me.”

“One more thing. Just one rule. No kissing.”

He came up with that stipulation after that first time in the alley, the guy had gone to kiss him and he turned his head. He didn’t want his first kiss to be with someone who paid him for sex, who didn’t ask him his name, who didn’t give a shit that he was underage.

*

The night seems like it’ll never end. A combination of alcohol, drugs, and caffeine make a potent cocktail. Sounds of sex are replaced with screaming and fighting, and the fighting ends in make-up sex. Jaebum swears the walls are getting thinner and thinner with each new place they move to.

Youngjae had taken up a spot in his bed over an hour ago.

“I’m scared.”

They’re fighting again. He’s lost count if this is the fifth or sixth fight.

His arms go around Youngjae, his hands tracing familiar patterns in an attempt to soothe. “It’ll be over soon.” He hopes but knows that’s probably a lie.

“I don’t mean them, or not exactly.”

Jaebum loosens his hold and backs away slightly so he can look into Youngjae’s eyes.

“I’m scared of love. Aren’t you?”

Oh, _oh_. His heart aches at the quiet admission. Youngjae doesn’t have to explain what he means or why he feels that way, he understands it all too well.

He doesn’t feel resentment or bitterness toward the universe when he thinks about his life, what’s happened to him or what he’s had to do, but when he thinks of Youngjae, he wants to tell the universe to go fuck itself.

Youngjae who should never had to worry about his next meal, who should never had to cry in his arms at night listening to sounds of excessive drinking and violence, who should never had to be scared of something simple like love.

Youngjae who is someone who should always feel loved, cared for, and protected.

Youngjae who is…

(it all starts to fall into place, the simple truth that had been patiently waiting to be seen)

…everything to him.

He doesn’t think, as he leans forward and brushes his lips against Youngjae’s softly, sweetly, letting his lips linger until he feels Youngjae’s lips part and hears his gasp of surprise. He pulls back at the sound, and he’s scared, terrified, of what he’ll find in Youngjae’s eyes. A look of disgust, hate, fear.

But he sees none of those things.

Youngjae’s cheeks are lightly flushed as he meets his gaze. “Why did you kiss me?”

“Because I wanted you to know that love isn’t always like that,” he says, referring to what’s outside their shared sanctuary. “Love can be kind, gentle, it can be good. It can be beautiful.”

He knows well that the world outside is harsh, that it’s ready at a moment’s notice to knock him down over and over until he feels beaten and disheartened. He knows how easy it could be to become mean, hardened just like his father. But none of that remotely matters, not when it’s Youngjae’s smile that can vanquish even the darkest corners of his worst days and make him believe in impossible things.

Impossible things like love.

*

He’s not sure when they start sharing a bed on a permanent basis. Youngjae started climbing into his bed more and more frequently, until eventually it became their bed.

Youngjae says he sleeps better when he can feel Jaebum next to him, and Jaebum doesn’t mind waking up in the morning to find Youngjae wrapped around him.

He turned seventeen a month ago, and he’s decided that this summer will be it. They’ll pack their bags, and they’ll leave. He doesn’t want Youngjae to celebrate another birthday living this way. He’ll be fifteen in September, and Jaebum’s greatest birthday wish for Youngjae is for him to be happy and safe.

He remembers the very first time he brought up the idea of leaving; Youngjae had become so distraught, shocking him, until he realized Youngjae thought he was planning to leave him.

It had taken him a while to calm Youngjae down, to reassure him he wasn’t going anywhere, not without him. And when Youngjae finally realized his mistake, that Jaebum had meant leaving together all along, he threw himself into Jaebum’s arms, laughing in joy. “Yes, please. I’ll go anywhere with you, you know that.”

*

They lie in bed at night, side by side, and talk softly.

Minutes, hours pass as they discuss the future, imagining all the places they’ll visit and where they will live. They both like the idea of living by the sea. It sounds peaceful and calming. They talk about how nice it would be to wake up to the sound of the ocean’s waves and smell the salty seawater in the air. Jaebum tells him he’d like to take him for walks along the beach at night, and Youngjae quietly agrees that he wants that too. They start decorating their future house together, arguing without any heat, over things like what color to paint their bedroom wall and what shade would look best in their kitchen.

Youngjae reaches out to take Jaebum’s hand in his, placing them palm to palm, comparing the size difference before linking their fingers together. A few seconds later, Jaebum brings their joined hands to his lips to press a soft kiss to the back of Youngjae’s, making the other man smile.

As long as they’re together, they know everything will be okay.

FIN

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd be so kind, please let me know what you think. Thank you.


End file.
